


I'll Be Waiting

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel!Allison, Derek is Stiles' Home, Erica and Derek are co-workers, Human Derek Hale, Hunter Scott McCall, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Hunters & Hunting, Journalist Derek, Journalist Erica Reyes, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Angst, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, No one believes Stiles exists, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 19:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Derek lived a normal life as a journalist with his co-worker Erica Reyes. He went to work and returned home, all the while waiting for his other half to return.Erica didn't believe him when he told her he was with someone. He wanted to tell her the truth, but what would he say?"The reason you've never met my boyfriend is because he drives around the states with his best friend, looking for vampires and monsters to hunt?*In which Stiles is a hunter and Derek is his civilian boyfriend.





	I'll Be Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, Stiles and Scott are the teen wolf version of Sam and Dean Winchester and Allison is their Castiel.

Derek Hale lived an average normal life. He woke up every morning around 7 am, switched on his coffee machine and then set about to get ready for work. As a journalist, Derek spent his days interviewing, researching, and trying to find the next big story.

His name was well known.

Derek James Hale was found everywhere.

If there was a story out on a corrupt Politician, you’d be sure to find Derek’s name in the by-line. He worked with Erica Reyes who, much like him, wanted to unveil the truth to the world.

“Hey, Derek. You coming out with us? We’re gonna celebrate Tracy’s promotion.”

Her voice pulled him away from his computer that he had been staring at blankly for the last half-hour. Derek looked up to the gorgeous brown eyed blonde that sat vertically opposite him. Her smile was stitched to her face, revealing a pair of straight white teeth.

With natural beauty, a sharp tongue and heels that could kill, Erica attracted the eyes of any human being who had 20-20 vision in a 10 mile radius. Her flirty demeanor got them both into some secret places that nobody in their right mind would allow journalists to enter.

“Huh, no I can’t.” He said apologetically, shifting a bit as he slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Erica always mocked him about his glasses that he wears only to work.

“ _Why Derek Hale? You wear leather and black jeans without purpose but just because you like it and yet you slip on these when you enter the work station. This will not help you get a girl. You know that right?”_ She always said, as she reached up and fixed his glasses.

“Hot date?” She asked, her brown eyes glimmering with hope.

Derek sighed in exasperation. “No. I’ve told you already I am with someone."

Erica rolled her eyes and bend down to scoop up her bag. “Yeah, a guy I never met nor heard of before. Beside what kind of name is Stiles, anyway?"

“A nickname.” Derek repeated in a bored tone.

“Right. And you expect me to believe you are dating a guy who you call by a nickname that is never around.”

Derek stood up, his messenger bag already packed and ready to go. He pulled the strap over his head as both he and Erica made their way out of the office.

“Bye, Derek.” A mousy brunette named Jill said, smiling and waving as Derek passed.

“Bye, Jill.” He smiled and nodded.

They walk out the doors and headed to the elevator.

Erica waited until they are out of earshot before she turned and punched Derek’s shoulder.

“See!” She exclaimed. “You have so many girls waiting there for you. Women and men who would love to get a piece of you!”

Derek just stared at the glowing numbers, waiting patiently for them to reach number 16.

“Derek! Come on!” She pleaded just as the elevators dinged and the doors slid opened.

Derek stepped inside, silently pressing the G button. As the steel doors closed, they reflected Erica’s body turned toward his, her hands brought together and pressed under her chin as she stares at Derek who met the tired eyes of Mirror-Derek.

“Please, come out with us tonight. You don’t even have to talk to anyone.” She begged. “I worry about you. Since the day I met you, you’ve come to work and gone home. You don’t have any friends.”

“I have you.” He replied, turning to give her a sweet grin.

Brown eyes roll at him. “Okay let me rephrase: You don’t have any friends that wants to have sex with you.”

“You wanted to have sex with me.” Derek reminded her.

“I was drunk.” She said lightly, waving off the comment.

The elevator dinged and Derek let out a sigh of relief as he stepped out into the nearly empty foyer. He rounded the corner and took the L-shaped steps that led to his escape from the Persistent-Erica Reyes.

He pushed open the doors and made his way to his Camaro, pulling out the key from his key-chain that was clipped to the belt loop of his pants. There are only three keys on there: The keys to his Camaro, the keys to his apartment and the keys to another Camaro. A much older, much more classical Camaro.

“ _It’s a beauty, babe.”_

“Derek!” A voice shouted behind him, her exasperation and plea clear as day.

“Bye, Erica!” He shouted, unlocking his door and sliding into the Camaro.

The apartment was empty and cold when Derek stepped inside. The silence brought an ache to his heart that had been there for weeks. Anyone entering would assume he lived alone, if it weren’t for the photos of two smiling men that sat on his mantel over the fireplace.

Anyone who didn’t know Derek wouldn’t feel the cold void.

And sadly… No one knew Derek Hale at all.

All they knew was that he was journalist. His co-workers knew he was with a man (Even if they didn’t believe him) and that he seemed to live alone. He worked hard, did his job and got his headlines.

As a journalist Derek had gotten bruised and beaten for stories, multiple times, so they knew beneath the nerdy persona was a fighter. He had been targeted before, for digging into things that shouldn’t be dug into and he had assumed his job couldn’t get any more dangerous …

But then he was partnered with Erica Reyes and their troubles only grew as Erica too loved sticking her fingers into places they don’t belong.

Derek looked around and sighed, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door as he made his way around the cold apartment he called home. He placed his cell on the kitchen counter, checking to see if there were any messages.

The sinking feeling in his heart was something Derek was well acquainted with but after months of doing this, of waiting and wondering, he still hadn’t gotten used to it.

He walked around, pulling out a cold beer and a slice of pizza from the fridge to warm. He wondered to the seating room, collapsing on the couch, ignoring how extra cold the cushions seemed to feel as he switched on the T.V while waiting for the microwave to chime.

The ringtone of his cell was so loud that Derek jumped.

His head whipped over to the shiny device as it vibrated against the hard-tiled counter top. He surged to his feet, rushing to the phone, answering it after two rings.

“Hey.” He breathed out, his relief clear to both himself and the person on the other line.

 _“Why are you out of breath?”_ The voice that answered warmed him to the core.

Derek sighed, ducking his head as he soaked in that feeling.

He closed his eyes, his body slumping as if it had been tensed for months and had finally been given the relief it so desperately craved for.

“I was running.” Derek replied, trying for a light tone.

There was a chuckle on the other side. As he strained to listen in, he heard the familiar rumbling of the Classic Camaro in the background and muttering of another voice.

“ _You don’t run. And if I’m not mistaken it’s fucking late on that side._ ”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I started running last week.”

_“Really? You had time to run during all the time you spend worrying about not meeting your deadline?”_

“Okay, fine!” Derek relented.

There was a bark of laughter and the sound made Derek smile.

He felt light and he feared if he took one step, his legs that felt like jelly at the moment would give in.

He missed that sound. He missed hearing his voice, and he missed him.

_“How have you been?”_

He sounded worried and Derek’s smile softened. “I’m fine, Stiles. I just…” He sighed sadly. “I just miss you so much.”

He hated the hell out of this job.

He understood it and he wasn’t naive to think that Stiles was being unreasonable to even continue living that life.

After what Stiles saw, after what happened to his family, Derek understood why he did it but that didn’t make it easier for Derek to watch him walk away, knowing he might not see him ever again.

 _“Derek…”_ Stiles said his name softly and painfully.

He heard the rumbling on the other side cease and then the old cranking of the car door opening.

Suddenly when Stiles spoke again, his voice sounded clearer, with nothing to drown it out.

“ _Baby, are you sure you still—“_

“Don’t.” Derek cut him off sharply. “I made my choice long ago. I chose you, all of you. Your job is who you are.”

“ _Derek, I hate that I’m doing this to you. I can hear how tired you sound. You sound like you haven’t slept in days and the last time I saw you, you had dark circles under your eyes.”_

He rolled his eyes even if Stiles couldn’t see him, “I have a job just like you, Stiles. Mine keeps me up at night just like yours.”

There was a pause and a small sigh.

 _“Okay.”_ Stiles said, his voice sounding resigned.

He’s letting it go. And Derek loved him even more for that.

“You got any idea when you’ll be back home?” Derek asked, changing the subject.

He knew better than to ask Stiles about the new case. As much as Stiles hated that he brought Derek into his world, he had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to darken Derek’s days with the nightmare that was his life.

_“Friday. Scott found a job nearby and it’s seem like a simple salt and burn.”_

“When has anything ever been simple for you two?” Derek asked jokingly, hoping to bring the light mood back.

Stiles laughed. _“I know right? Man, I miss the good ol’ days._ ”

Derek laughed along with him and just for a second, just for a small moment, they seemed like any other couple.

“ _So,”_ Stiles dragged out, laughter still evident in his tone. _“Friday, then?_ ”

Derek nodded, his smile fixed on his face. “Friday. Be safe.”

“ _I love you_.”

Derek shut his eyes, hating that Stiles didn’t return his request. “I love you too.”

When they hung up, Derek looked down at his cell, his stomach tightening in a sick and twisted way.

Later that night, as he lay in bed, unable to sleep, he heard his phone vibrate next to his head on Stiles’ pillow.

He picked it up gingerly, swiping the screen to reveal Stiles and Derek’s smiling faces.

The text icon popped up and Derek accessed it.

 

**Thinking of you. You’re my beacon home.**  
**XXX**

 

He smiled.

 

*

 

The orchestra played a soft and calming music and everyone was laughing and talking quietly with one another. Their voices jingled across the room, lighting the atmosphere, yet anyone stepping inside would instantly feel the power these people possessed.

Jewellery adorned around necks, wrists and ears. Dresses that fitted their forms perfectly, glistering and shimmering in the light casted down by the billion dollar chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

Dressed in a suit that made him uncomfortable, Derek Hale looked exhausted. His glasses hide the circles under his eyes from various on lookers but Erica. His ever-observant colleague, had cocked one perfectly plucked eyebrow at him as she walked over in a gorgeous black sparkly evening dress and promptly gave him a glass of champion so he didn’t ‘look like a cast member from The Walking Dead’.

Soon after drowning the flute of the non-alcoholic drink, she had demanded a dance.

Now as he danced with her around the ballroom, he couldn’t help but pull back his hand from where it was rested on the small of her bare back to turn his wrist so he could read the time.

Just another half hour.

He sighed and continued to sway to the music.

“If you look at that watch one more time, I will grab that wrist, break it and then take the watch.” Erica hissed in his ear.

Derek sighed, and pulled back just a bit to give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, I get it. You don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here too, believe me. But we already interviewed Senator Bailey, so now all we have to do is not be disrespectful by looking eager to leave this event that he personally invited us to.”

Derek nodded.

He’d been on his toes since Stiles called two days ago.

Tomorrow was Friday and as the day drew near and the excitement Derek felt increased, nothing about his job or the outside world seemed of any importance to him.

Erica noticed the ‘lightness in his step’ and when he mentioned he’d be seeing Stiles on Friday she had sighed and roll her eyes, muttering ‘sure’ under her breath.

“Why so anxious anyway?” She asked him.

There was an appropriate distance between them but he had noticed a few other reporters giving them double glances as there was a speculation in the journalism world that Derek and Erica were more than just friends.

Derek looked down at her as he held her hand gently in his while his other hand was sprawled over her bare mid-back. He felt uncomfortable with the skin on skin contact but Erica had apologized when she felt his fingers lightly dance across her skin as he tried to touch her but also not, saying she was supposed to bring a date but he cancelled last minute.

“I would tell you but you’d just roll your eyes like you always do.” Derek muttered.

“Right, right.” She said, nodding. “Stiles’ grand return from Narnia.”

He glared at her.

“Sorry.” She muttered, her eyes sincere. “I promise no more jokes.”

“Thank you.”

“So… will I get to meet him?”

Derek paused at that.

He wanted to say yes but with Stiles, he was never sure what state he would be coming home in.

Once he came home bruised from head to toe with his arm curled around his waist, housing a couple of bruised ribs. That was before he met Allison, but even after that, Stiles didn’t want her to lay a finger on him unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Derek?” Erica’s voice pulled him back.

He blinked, shaking his head to take away the image of Stiles in that broken state. “Yeah, sorry. You can come. I’ll just have to check with Stiles first though.”

The blonde tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“Uh,” Derek racked his brain for a plausible excuse. “He doesn’t really like meeting new people unexpectedly. Last time a co-worked came over as a surprise and Stiles slammed the door in his face.”

“Really?” Erica asked, suddenly intrigued. “Who was it?”

Derek bit his lip. “No one you know. It was someone from Early Times.”

His co-worker sighed. “Of course.” She looked up to him and grinned. “Well, you let him know I’m coming over.”

Derek noted how she made it sure he knew she was coming over no matter what Stiles thought.

He wanted to tell her no, that he really didn’t want to spend his short time with Stiles with other people but he knew if he denied her this one thing, it would solidify the belief in her head that Derek was single and Stiles was just a figment of his imagination.

A figment he spend his time and effort on, what with ‘all the pictures of him on his phone’.

“ _Dawn of a new age, Derek Hale._ ” She had said. _“Nowadays anything can be made believable.”_

When time came for him to leave, Derek walked Erica to her car, kissed her cheek and then hurried to his Camaro, eager to get home and into bed.

He hated these kind of events, mostly because he sent his time smiling with people he was sure were dirty as hell and who hated Derek with a passion, given he had a reputation for taking down very important, very powerful people much like them.

The shower he took relaxed his body just a bit and when Derek was dried off and dressed, he made his way to his bedroom window.

There was a seat near it that he had strategically placed the day he moved in. Its right by the window and it gave Derek a good view of the street below.

He knew it was stupid and it only brought his hopes up unnecessarily, but whenever he felt too anxious to fall asleep, he’d sit there and count every car that passed, hoping and praying to see the familiar shiny baby blue roof and black sport stripes on the hood and trunk of the car.

“ _Why blue?”_

_“Cause… if I can’t take my Jeep with me, I might as well honor her by driving this car with her color.”_

_“And the black stripes?”_

_“Looks badass, Der.” He rolled his eyes exasperatedly._

Behind him, there was a flutter and rustle. He didn’t turn around because he already knew who was behind him.

She came to him every time he became nostalgic, feeling it’s her duty to check in on him whenever he longed for company.

“Hey, AL.” He casted her a glance.

The Angel stood behind him, her skin glowing pale as the moon light flickered through Derek’s open window and down upon her face, accenting her beautiful, flawless features. As the journalist turned around he found her dressed like she always was. In a pair of skin tight black jeans, combat boots, a horizontal black and white stripped top that brushed her thighs with a mid-waist length leather jacket.

“Hello Derek.” She greeted him in that mono-toned voice.

“He send you?”

Allison tilted her head to the side and frowned. “No, Stiles and Scott are not currently aware that I am here.”

Derek felt his lips tug up, “so why are you here?”

The Angel looked down at her shoes for a second before she answered. “Scott said that sometimes you and Stiles long for one another and I thought that if I came here to inform you that they are indeed on their way, it would make things more bearable.”

Derek wanted to laugh but the act of pure kindness made him smile at her. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

She nodded and remained where she was.

“Did you want something to drink before you go back to them?”

Allison stared at him for a minute, saying nothing.

Derek turned around to look at her completely, sensing the way she seemed reluctant to agree to the offer. “Allison? You okay?”

If someone had told him that one day he would be having conversations with an Angel of the Lord as if it was an everyday thing, Derek would have sat that person down and taking it upon himself to make sure they got the best psychiatric care that there was.

But here was… Because not only had Stiles’ mere existence changed him, his presence opened Derek’s eyes and brought in new and strange things.

Like this…

“May I ask you something?” A clear voice pulled him out of his small moment.

Derek sighed and smiled encouragingly. “Sure.”

He had learned a long time ago that while Allison may have been alive much, much longer than him, her understanding of basic human interaction was limited to observation only.

She looked to the ground for a moment before locking her eyes with his. “I have wondered…. How do you know that what you are… feeling for Stiles is something worth fighting for?”

Derek gaped at her. Of all the things he had thought she would ask, that was not it.

“Uh…”

She spoke once more, explaining. “I have watched the two of you and I was merely wondering if there was ever a time when you questioned the love you feel for him?”

“No. Never.” Derek answered instantly.

Allison nodded.

Sighing, Derek regarded her with a sincere look. “Allison, I am going to give you some serious advice, okay?”

She straightened her posture even further.

“When you love someone, and I mean really love someone, nothing will ever make you doubt it. You can fight with one another, you can hate each other, you may never even speak, and not even then will you doubt the fact that you loved that person.”

“And if one has no idea what this sort of love feels like?”

“You’ll know. Trust me.”

She stared at him for a beat.

He blinked.

She was gone.

“Good talk.” He sighed.

 

*

 

“Derek.”

He stopped mid-way from shoving his books and notes into his sling bag to look up to see Jill standing in front of him.

Her blue eyes were bright and joyous and though she may seem plain in other people’s eyes, Derek had seen her dressed up and he knew that much like him, she preferred hiding behind her work clothes and the belief that there was more to someone than their looks.

“Yes?”

She swallowed thickly and gave him a nervous smile. “I was wondering if maybe you would like to go out for drinks tonight.” She said in an almost robotic voice.

Crap…

Derek opened his mouth to politely decline but he felt the words stuck in his throat. “Uh—“

“I asked Erica, and she told me that the rumors about you two are false and seeing as you’re not seeing anyone... Well, I would like to get to know you, better, outside of the work place.”

She bit down on her bottom lip and Derek closed his eyes briefly to try and find his words.

“Uh, Jill…” He started, a sentence slowly starting to form in his head. “I- Wow, I’m flattered, really. But… the thing is…”

“Oh,” Her soft features dropped. “There’s a thing?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. I am truly flattered but even though I am definitely not seeing Erica, I am in relationship with someone.”

She stared at him, her eyes seeking out the lie.

“But… I do know for a fact that Michael,” Derek said, pointing to a poise blonde a few seats away from them, “has been working up to asking you out for a month now. You two would have more in common than you and I, believe me.”

A light smile formed on her lips and her tensed up shoulders sagged. “Thanks.”

Derek waited a beat as she walked back to her desk before letting out a sigh. He hoped that his rejection wasn’t too harsh but as he watched Jill sneak a glance at Michael, he knew that somehow the rejection won’t leave permanent damage to her ego.

Satisfied, he turned around and finished packing up.

He knew Stiles would arrive home around mid-night, tired to the bone but Derek would still like make him something to eat and with the state their apartment was in, he needed to get home soon.

“What was that?”

He looked up to see Erica standing by his desk, packed and ready to go. Her perfectly arched eyebrows were raised in question.

Geez. What? Was it bother-Derek-and-delay-him-leaving Day?

“What was what?” He asked as he closed his bag and ducked his head under the strap, feeling the heavy weight on the bag against his shoulder.

He looked around to see if he left anything on his desk.

“That? With Jill?”

He turned and made his way out the office, knowing Erica would be hot on his heels.

“Derek, don’t you walk away from me. _What was that?”_

“Nothing.” He said, rushing to the elevator. “She was just asking me out.”  
  
The clicking of heels paused and then sped up. “ _Just_ asking you out?”

The elevator opened and Derek stepped in, clicking the ‘doors closed’ button rapidly, wanting to get out of this building and home as fast as possible.

“What did you say?”

Derek turned and glared at her through his glasses. “What do you think I said? I said no.”

“Why?”

Heat flushed his face and Derek pushed his anger down. “Don’t, Erica. You know why.”

“Because of Stiles?” Erica asked loudly. “Derek, even if he is real, what kind of relationship is this? You barely see him and from the looks of it when you do, it’s brief. What future do you see with someone like that?”

The doors opened and Derek stepped out, ready to leave the comment unanswered but something in him snapped and he spun around to glare at her. “I would have a happy one. And as my friend, I suggest you start believing me when I say I’m with someone because I am not in high school and I have no reason to lie to you or anyone else and I am _not_ about to lie about Stiles.”

The doors dinged once more and Derek turned around before Erica could say anything else.

He was fuming.

He hated this.

He hated that he had to defend Stiles’ existence to everyone in his life.

He hated that he had to go around living his everyday life, listening to people scoff at the mere mention of Stiles when if it weren’t for Stiles and Scott, none of them would be alive.

They had no idea the risk Stiles took every single day. They had no idea that Stiles placed his life in danger every minute of every day, defending people just like them. Ignorant and naive of the evil in this world, the kinda evil that would have them cowering beneath their beds.

He got to his car, the slamming of the door loud enough that he felt it in his chest. The Camaro roared to life and he sped home, trying to breathe through the anger, not wanting it to ruin this night.

In less than an hour, as he walked toward his apartment complex, he felt his cell vibrate in his pocked.

Looking down to the ground, he pulled it out and stepped through the doors.

Erica’s name flashed on the screen.

Sighing, Derek pressed ignore and shoved his cell into his jacket.

He got onto the elevator and rode it up the fifth floor.

The ride up was long and the wait made him jittery. His heart jumped, like organ doing through sugar rush. He just wanted to get home, get everything ready for Stiles’ arrival. Maybe the cleaning will speed up time. The sound of the elevator dinging was like music to his ears and Derek couldn’t help but sigh with relief as he stepped out and made his way to his apartment.

His cell vibrated once more.

Pulling it out, Derek answered it. “Erica, I really don’t have time for this.”

He heard her sigh on the other end. “ _I know, look I’m sorry for what I did. That was super bitchy of me.”_

He took out his keys, unlocked the door and walked in. “Yes, it was. But I really don’t have—“

His eyes flickered up.

A mischievous smirk greeted him.

His body froze and he felt his hand drop.

“You sure took your sweet time getting home.”

His voice reached Derek’s ear and it broke something in him.

His cell slipped from his numb fingers and Derek rushed over, closing the distance between them. He heard the laugh that slipped from Stiles’ mouth and it warmed his very soul.

Their bodies collided. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and back, strong and real. Tears sprang in his eyes and Derek slammed them shut, turning his head and burying it in the sweet musky scent of Stiles’ neck.

A hand, burning hot, cupped the back of his neck and long, familiar fingers tangled through his hair.

“God, I missed you so much.” His deep voice whispered in Derek’s hair.

His throat, burning from withheld tears, made it impossible for him to speak, so Derek did the only thing he knew he could do that would speak louder than simple words.

He pulled back, his hands sliding over Stiles’ back and shoulders to his neck, warm and soft. He felt his pulse point against his thumb, a thundering drum. Derek leaned back, and then forward, capturing Stiles’ lips.

The kiss was hot and it was wild.

It was passionate and it was amazing.

Stiles’ groaned, the vibration reverberating into his palms. Derek moved forward, thrusting their hips flushed together, their chest pressed firmly against each other’s, leaving no space between them at all.

A warm, wet tongue brushed against his bottom lip, begging for entrance that Derek gladly granted.

Their moans echoed through the apartment.

Derek tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, as he nibbled and sucked on Stiles’ lips, wanting to remember it, wanting to lock everything he had missed into his mind, every hard line of his body that he felt against him, the sweet taste of soda on his tongue, the softness of his lips.

A hand cupped his jaw and slowly, Stiles leaned back, their lips lingering and reaching as they both pulled away.

“Wow.” Stiles’ breathed.

Derek licked his lips, pressing his forehead against Stiles’, not wanting to be away from him. He lowered his hands, placing them gently on Stiles’ hips, digging his fingers into his sides.

“I’m a little dizzy.”

Derek laughed and finally opened his eyes, meeting those warm honey brown eyes that he had longed to see, that he had sleepless nights about.

A sweet smile formed on his lips and he couldn’t help but lean forward, pressing a soft, loving kiss against Stiles’ mouth.

They don’t say anything for a while.

The silence that fell over them was comforting as they both got lost in each other’s presence. The rhythmic stroking of Stiles’ thumb against his cheek grounded him as he felt tears build in his eyes once more.

He closed his eyes in hopes that it would keep them from falling but one single tear slipped free.

The pad of Stiles’ thumb, brushing it away, was branded against his skin.

“I’m sorry for taking so long.”

Derek shook his head. “Don’t apologize. We talked about that, remember?”

Stiles nodded against his forehead. “Still.”

Pulling away, Derek opened his eyes and saw the pain, the love, and sincerity in Stiles eyes.

With a smile, Derek leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Stiles’ lips, trapping his bottom lip between his. He held it until he felt the growing stretch of those lips forming into a smile.

Slowly, he took a step back and Stiles’ followed.

He forgot about the apartment.

He forgot about work.

He forgot about everything as he pulled away, laced their fingers together and led Stiles’ to their bedroom.

 

*

 

Panting, Derek pressed his forehead against Stiles’ feeling the after-wave of his pleasure rippling through his body.

Stiles’ heavy body felt solid and safe above him and Derek wound his arms around his lean waist, feeling the wetness of his back as the sweat slowly cooled off.

Tilting his head back, he blindly sought out Stiles’ lips, groaning as wet lips met his and they traded a messy, sloppy, lazy kiss.

“I definitely missed this.” Stiles said against his mouth.

He shifted just a bit and Derek opened his eyes to see his boyfriend looking down between them at the mess Derek had left.

“We better clean ourselves up.” He muttered.

Stiles looked up, his eyes bright. A tired smile formed on his lips and he leaned down, giving Derek a playful kiss before he shifted completely off his sated body.

As he rolled the condom off, Derek, with a heavy groan lifted himself up and stood before Stiles. He watched as Stiles dropped the used condom in his bin, before turning around and then slowly run his hands over Derek’s body.

Derek tried to not count the scars that littered Stiles’ pale skin. But as much as he tried, he found himself cataloguing them in his mind, the old ones… and the new ones.

“C’mon. I need a shower.”

A hand slipped through his and Derek turned, allowing Stiles to pull him to their bathroom.

The shower was hot and it relaxed their sore muscles wonderfully.  
Derek took his time, washing every inch of Stiles’ body, pausing every single time to press a kiss on every scar and Stiles did the same, asking Derek why he had a small jiggered scar on his hip and then proceeding to question him as to how and when he got it.

It was familiar and it was fun.

They both had jobs that were dangerous in their own way and the fact that Derek could speak to Stiles about it and the fact that Stiles was open with him was something that he would always treasure.

Before, _after_ Stiles came clean to Derek about what it was that he did, he asked Derek to please not ask him about his job.

_“Some things are better left unknown.”_

  
And Derek suspected that Stiles’ hesitancy to share was partly due to his fear that the more Derek knew, the more reason he would have to run.

But as weeks turned into months. And months progressed into years and Derek was still there, with him, Stiles opened up.

The first story he ever told Derek was of the night he lost his mom and dad to a demon attack.

Derek still had nightmares about that.

“We better get out or we will never leave this shower.” Derek said to Stiles as he reached around him to turn off the spraying water.

“Why?” A warm, wet, sleeked up body pressed against his. “We were having so much fun. And I miss proper showers.”

Derek clenched his jaw to keep his moan in. He leaned down and gave Stiles a kiss. Hands fell on his hips, tactile thumbs flirting with his V-line.

“Can’t,” Derek said, pulling away reluctantly. “Sorry. I have bills to pay and my water bills are killing me.”

Stiles groaned. “The life of a civilian. So costly.” He joked as he pulled the shower door back and stepped out.

Derek followed. “How are those fake credit card scams going?”

With a smirk, Stiles replied. “Rewarding.”

He opened to his mouth to retort when a loud bang cut him off.

Following the insistent knocking was a panicking voice. “Derek! _Derek_!”

He heard his front door being shoved open and winced at the loud smack of his precious door.

“Derek!” She shouted again.

Cursing himself, he remembered the call. Grabbing a towel and hurriedly wrapping it around his waist, Derek rushed out of the bathroom and down the flight of stairs, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

“Derek! Where the fuck are---“

He rounded the counter, his eyes felling on the erratic blonde who spun around in a full circle. Her blonde curls whipped around as she came to a sudden stop when her eyes landed on him.

Brown eyes widened and then heels were clicking against the floor and soon a body slammed into his. Derek froze at the sudden attack, his eyes widening.

“Oh thank God, I thought something had happened.” She said, letting out a loud sigh of relief that he felt against his neck which broke him out of his stupor.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Derek wrapped one arm around her briefly while his other hand firmly clutched his towel.

Erica pulled back, and dark brown eyes scanned his body, her hands digging into his shoulders to keep him steady. “Are you okay? There was this loud bang on your side and then you didn’t reply, and then I tried to call you again and you didn’t answer.”

Blushing, Derek placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey! I’m fine. See,” He took a step back. “Perfectly fine.”

The sharp pain of those claw-like nails in his skin lessened as Erica loosened her hold on him. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

Derek watched her with cautious eyes when her body suddenly tensed up and suspicious brown eyes snapped over to him. “Why was your phone off?”

Looking down, Derek opened his mouth to answer but Erica cut him off again.

“And why is your body covered in hickies?”

He glanced down to see that his body was indeed covered in red bruises, patches that traveled from his neck down his chest with the last one just above his towel.

“Huh---“

“That would be because of me.” A deep voice said behind them.

Derek spun around to see Stiles in sweats and one of Derek’s tank tops standing by the steps, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed and an inquisitive brow raised.

“And who might you be?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

He knew that look.

Sighing, Derek rolled his eyes and gave Stiles a hard look. The stubborn hunter chose to ignore his very presence as he glared over at his co-worker.

He heard a huff from behind him, “You first.”

“Okay.” Derek stepped in, not needing be psychic to know how this particular conversation would end. “Enough with the Battle of Wills. Stiles, this is Erica.” He said firmly to Stiles before turning to look at Erica. “Erica, meet _Stiles_.”

Her mouth fell open and her eyes flashed to Derek. He saw the shock in her eyes, the way they kept flickering from Stiles to Derek and back to Stiles.

She opened her mouth a couple of times, but Stiles cut her off.

“Maybe you should put some clothes on, Derek. It’s clearly distracting her.”

Derek turned and send Stiles a glare. “Be nice.”

Stiles only smirked.

“Get dressed, Derek.” Erica said, her voice hard.

With a huff and the roll of the eyes, he walked past Stiles who winked at him.

_Oh fuck._

 

*

 

Hurriedly, he shoved a shirt over his head, his sweat twisted in a way that made it clear it was rush job and soon Derek was hurrying the stairs to hear… laughter.

_“Seriously?!”_

“Yeah, he was a muttering mess. You should have seem his face, it was red. His ears---“

Stiles laughed even harder.

His heart fluttered at the sound and his stomach twisted uncomfortable at the implication when he heard Erica’s mean girl cackling. Rounding the corner, Derek’s eager yet equally terrified eyes fell on Stiles and Erica, both seated on the couch. She had on a wide, grin like smile while Stiles was full on belly laughing.

“What is going on?” Derek asked cautiously.

Erica and Stiles both turned to look at him with grins plastered on their faces.

“Oh! I was just telling Stiles about that time I made a move on you.”

Derek stumbled in his step, which only caused his boyfriend, the man who was supposed to be his back bone and always be there for him in his time of need, to laugh even louder. Going so far as to clutch his stomach and lift his legs up at the sheer intensity of the joy he found in Derek’s embarrassment.

“Oh! Oh!” Stiles gasped, his teary eyes falling on Derek flushed expression. “You shy little dork.”

“Bite me, Stiles.” Derek growled out, turning around with as much dignity as he could find and marched to the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab both Stiles and Erica a bottle of beer.

She wasn’t leaving any time soon, anyway.

“C’mon, Der!” Stiles called after him. When Derek reappeared with the amber bottles in his hands, Stiles gave him a sweet smile. “You know, your shy, dorky personality gets me hard any day of the week.”

Erica laughed when Derek’s entire face heated up. He glared at Stiles, handing him his beer. Erica took hers gratefully, her catlike grin never wavering as she eyed the two when Derek took a seat behind Stiles, tossing his arm around the back of the couch and the hunter leaned back into him on instinct.

“Man,” She said, shaking her head at the two. “I can’t believe you are a real person.”

Stiles shrugged, opening his bottle with one quick twist. “I know. I am pretty amazing.”

Derek snorted. “That’s not what she meant.”

At his words, his co-worker shifted in her seat, her eyes losing a little of the humor, dimming her bright orbs. A small beat of silence fell between them as Derek stared and Erica took a nervous gulp of her water-downed beer (He still hated Stiles for drilling that into him).

“Wow that got awkward really fast.” Stiles spoke up, leaning further back against Derek to get a better look at him. “Wanna fill me in?”

Erica’s brown eyes widened, a small hint of fear flashing across her features. Derek, casting her one last firm glance returned his eyes to Stiles, his heavy, weighted stare softening at those wide whiskey eyes that were locked on him.

Smiling, Derek shook his head. “A couple of people at work didn’t really believe that I was with someone.”

Dark brows furrowed together at that before they smoothed out, and a small smirk graced those thin, cupid-bow shaped lips. “It’s cool. Scott thought you were just a vivid sex dream before he met you.”

 _“Stiles!”_ Derek groaned.

 

*

 

Everything was perfect. It was blissfully, heavenly, damn near dreamlike, perfect.

He woke up and he felt Stiles’ body pressed against his. He woke up to kisses, to a wide, kind, achingly memorizing smile. The first thing he felt was Stiles. The first thing that consumed his view was warm whiskey eyes, intoxicating, swirling shades of brown and amber.

He felt amazing. His body was relaxed, his muscles no longer tense and cold, no longer yearning for Stiles’ presence because Stiles was with him. His mind was calm, for once, there were no racing thoughts, no worrying voices of spewing random ‘what if’s’.

For the first time, he didn’t care about the outside world.

His work was light years away. He spend his days, three blissful days, with Stiles. They stayed indoors the first day, venturing outside only once to take a stroll through the nearby park that lasted exactly an hour before they returned to the sanctuary that was their home and spend the rest of the day in bed and on the couch, watching movies and just being together.

He was happy, utterly happy and the moment he woke up, on the third night of Stiles’ stay to his boyfriend’s heat body gone, to the slight dip in the bed further away from him and the harsh whispering, he felt the light that had taken hold of him dim with each word he heard.

“But you said… Yeah, Scott, I know… And you and Allison can’t do it alone?” Stiles gave a heavy burdened sigh. “I figured. Those guys are a bag of dicks. Yeah, I know you’re sorry, man. I’m not holding it against you. I just missed him is all… Yeah, yeah, I know.” A broken laugh filled the tense silence.

Derek swallowed the thick, suffocating lump that had swelled in his throat, down and slowly opened his eyes to see Stiles’ bare, mole dotted back facing him. His head was bowed down, his phone gripped tightly in a white knuckled hand as he spoke to Scott McCall.

“I’ll get you at Rose Motel. Give me like two hours… Okay. Okay, yeah. See ya’ Scotty.”

And then he hung up.

The haunting light of the cell phone ghosted over Stiles’ hardening features. Derek watched with an aching heart as the man who had laughed so easily and had joked so profusely gave way to the hard, stone faced hunter that lurked beneath.

Stiles had a dark side, there was no denying that. Given what he had to do, given what he went through…

Derek knew this, he was fully aware of it but that acknowledgement never helped ease the pain he felt as he watched the man he loved hon a mask of a brutish hunter who scared the evilest of beings that walked this earth.

Slowly, almost gravely, Stiles turned his head toward Derek.

Dark brown eyes widened as they met his scared green orbs.

A tense, ear splitting silence fell between the two as neither made a sound or moved an inch,

This was always the hardest part for them both. The night or day where Stiles had to pack up his bag, climb into his baby blue Camaro with a fearful expression on his face that mirrored Derek’s. Fear, not of the hunt that he was about to go on but fear that he might never see Derek again, a crippling feeling that Derek too felt.

“Still sure you want to do this?” Stiles asked in a forced light tome.

It broke his heart when he heard the slight quiver in that strong voice. Even after all this time, Stiles still dreaded the day Derek would walk away.

With a tight expression, Derek shifted forward. He felt Stiles tense up as the journalist moved past him, stretching his arm out to open the bedside draw. He kept his eyes on the contents until he found a small rectangular wooden box.

He pulled it out, sensing the trepidation wafting off Stiles as the younger man followed him with curious eyes.

Derek sat up, now on Stiles’ side of the bed and leaned back against the pillows. His fingers shook as he moved to open the lid, his eyes falling on the single silver chain that laid nestled within. He picked it up with ginger fingers, the silver glinting off in the specks of moonlight stream in through the window. He lifted it up, revealing the long necklace and dangling from it was a single ring, a beautiful black gold ring with vibrant sapphire stones embedded around the front curve, its alluring shade reflecting in Stiles’ widened eyes.

Derek swallowed down, his mind racing as he remember two months ago, him entering his families vault, him finding this ring in his father’s collection and immediately thinking of Stiles. He remember the bar where they met, the way those hypnotic blue lights flashed down on the face of God’s greatest gift to him.

“Derek, is that a…” Stiles spoke, his voice dying off near the end.

Taking in shaky, yet certain breath, Derek spoke. “Think of it as a promise. A reminder of sorts.”

He locked eyes with Stiles and slowly Derek leaned forward, unclasping the necklace, only to link it around the neck of the person it belonged to. His fingers danced over soft skin, stroking the small nicks that littered his flesh.

He pulled away just enough to face Stiles. “Stop asking me if I’m gonna walk away from you. ‘Cause I’m not.” Cupping Stiles’ chin between his thumb and crooked forefinger, he smiled. “Okay.”  
Stiles sighed, “Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” before lurching forward, his arms wrapping around Derek tightly, hand pressed against his shoulder, fingers tangling through his strands to hold him even tighter.

A wet laugh tore through Derek, but he refused to cry as he held onto Stiles Stilinski, his hand reaching up to wrap around the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled that musky scent, locking it into memory, memorizing the heated burn of Stiles’ hard body pressed against his, the soft texture of his skin that no amount of scars could take away.

They just held one another, both equally unwilling to let go, dreading the events that would soon follow the moment they acknowledge that Stiles had to leave soon. They just drank each other in, from the rhythmic strokes of those long finger against his sculpt, to the sweet, soft pecks Derek littered on Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

And then, Stiles cleared his throat, pulled back with a tensed up body. He turned his head, dropped a kiss against Derek’s temple before he stood up and walked around their room, picking up his discarded duffel bag.

A representation they had tried to ignore whenever they so much as caught a glimpse of the army green bag. A representation that their blissful life was not meant to last forever.

Derek watched, numb to the core, as Stiles methodically walked around and packed up, the ring swinging back and forth, mocking him, yet reassuring him.

 

*

 

He shivered slightly as the icy chill ran down his spine, watching with dread-filled eyes as Stiles slammed the trunk of the Camaro shut.

The hunter walked over to the driver’s side where Derek stood in his sweats, work boots and hoodie. His eyes were strong, they were firm and filled with faux-confidence. A masked Derek had always been able to see past.

Stiles came up and stood before him. “You know you could always come with me? We could be the badass hunting couple. You do the research and I do the beheading.” Stiles joked.

Derek felt his lips tug up into a tiny grin as a scoff left him. “Do I look like the behind the scenes kinda guy?”

Hands slithered up his sides, arms curling around him and he allowed himself to be pulled in. His hands left the warmth of his pockets and his heat skin touched icy cheeks. Stiles sighed softly at the touch, closing his eyes briefly.

Derek took the time to take in him. The upturned-button nose, those long lashed that framed those beautiful eyes. He traced the gentle, sweet slopes of Stiles’ lip and the moles that trailed up to them.  
When he finally looked up, kind, soft eyes met his. They said words that neither wanted spoken. Derek just shook his head as his eyes started burning, and so he shut them tightly and leaned forward, crowding into Stiles’ space.

Their lips slanted over each other’s, mouths opening and tongues tangling, tasting and savoring. Hands fists his hoodie and tugged him even closer, a feat that seemed impossible given there wasn’t a breath of space between them but Derek still pressed forward, pulling away from Stiles’ lips, tilting his head to a different side and meeting them once more in an equally stomach flipping, knee weakening kiss.

When air became a necessity, only then did they both pull back. Stiles wasted no time to draw him into tight embrace.

“I’ll call you when I get to the motel.” He said, his voice thick and rough.

Derek curled his hand into the cold material of Stiles’ leather jacket and nodded.

They waited. Two beats followed before Derek found the inner strength to draw back, a smiling fitting on his face when they met Stiles’ smirk.

He watched as Stiles took one solid step back and then turned around, opening the car door. The old cranking of the door was like a knife to his heart but Derek remained strong.

Stiles was going to come back…

He always came back, no matter what. They had Allison with them, a literal Angel watching over them, so Stiles and Scott would be find.

“Hey,” Stiles called to him, and Derek smiled down at the hunter as the Camaro rumbled before roaring to life. “I’m bringing Scott with me next time.”

“That a promise?”

Stiles inhaled slightly at that, his smirk slipping for a fraction. “I’ll try my best.”

“I know. See you soon.”

“I love you.” With a wink and cocky grin, Stiles focused his eyes ahead of him as he turned the steering wheel and pulled out of the parking space.

His smiling face was the last thing Derek saw before the baby blue Camaro took his line of sight.

Derek stayed on the street, watching with a cracked and worry filled heart as the bright red taillights glared back at him the further Stiles drove away, taking with him a part of Derek’s heart and soul.

One long tear slipped and trailed down his cheeks.

 

*

 

**Saw you in the by-line. Good job, Der. <3**

**Be seeing you tomorrow.**

**XXXX**

 

**P.S: You’re my beacon home.**

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any and all mistakes. I have been struggling for days to get this story uploaded by for some reason, AO3 won't work with me. It was a mission to get it up, so please if there are any mistakes, let me know so I can fix it.
> 
> Hope you liked it. <3


End file.
